


Out of His Element

by jankmusic



Series: The Drabble Collection [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advice, Dating, F/M, Fluff, OOC possibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jankmusic/pseuds/jankmusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between her expressive eyes and John Watson's helpful advice, Sherlock manages his first three dates with Molly Hooper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of His Element

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is day eleven of the One-a-Day Challenge. The prompt is eyes!

On their first date they went out for coffee. Sherlock was so uncomfortable, he felt his skin crawling. His insides were tied in knots, and he kept going over appropriate topics to talk about on first dates. He was supposed to _get to know_ Molly Hooper. But he already _knew_ who she was, and most of the introductory questions that his research gave him (Women’s magazines, numerous Google searches, and a very brief conversation with someone from his homeless network), he already knew the answers to.

 

After a moment of unbelievably uncomfortable silence, in which Sherlock nearly leapt out of the coffee shop to escape, he noticed the corners of Molly’s eyes crinkle and then she smiled shyly. “Sherlock, I am an incredibly awkward person, but even this is almost unbearable. Do you want to walk—”

 

“Yes!” he said, jumping up and placing a few bills on the table to cover the cost of the drinks and a generous tip. It was then that he noticed that he was still wearing his coat and scarf and he was sweating—from being too warm or too nervous, he wasn’t entirely sure.

 

\-----

 

“How was your date then?” John asked gently, hoping that his flatmate would be willing to spill the details.

 

“It was terrible,” Sherlock admitted. He had been standing at the window staring down at the pedestrians of London, but at John’s prompting he moved to the couch and threw himself on it.

 

“Can I ask why?”

 

“It was awkward and I forgot to remove my coat so I was perspiring unnecessarily and we went on a brief walk around the block and then we separated so she could take the tube home.” Sherlock covered his face with his hands and groaned. Then he sat up enough to run his hands through his hair, ruffling his curls, before plopping back down to the couch.

 

John sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Are you still interested in pursuing Molly?”

 

Sherlock rolled over so he was on his side, his undivided attention on John. “I am.”

 

“Then let me give you a bit of advice. Forget all of the research you’ve done, alright? It’s rubbish anyway.” Sherlock wanted to protest that he did any research, but he knew John would know the truth. “First of all, don’t be nervous. It’s Molly Hooper. You’ve known her for years.

 

“Second of all, just because you’ve known her for years doesn’t mean you know her. Don’t deduce, but ask. You know she has a cat, and I’m sure you’ve met him. Inquire about him. Ask her about work. You’re both morbid people, so talking about autopsies and experiments during a meal is perfectly okay in this instance. For your second date, take her to Angelo’s. She’ll think it’s cute that he insists on putting a candle on the table.

 

“And lastly, don’t forget to take off that ridiculous coat. It gives off the impression that you’d rather be castrated than sit across the table from a beautiful woman.”

 

\-----

 

On their second date, things started out awkward when he met Molly outside Angelo’s, but just as John predicted, Molly found the candle on the table endearing, which eased some of the tension in his body. He remembered to take off his coat, only because Angelo insisted on taking them at the door.

 

The first thing Sherlock asked about was Toby, just as John suggested. If John was right about the candle and the coat, then he was going to follow his advice to a T. And even though Molly awkwardly responded that her cat was in good health and was behaving as a normal cat, Sherlock could see relief in her eyes that their conversation was already better than their first date.

 

They spent nearly the rest of the date talking about work. This was something Sherlock was comfortable with, as was Molly.

 

Hours after the date began, and when it was getting late, Sherlock surprised Molly by asking her about her favorite television show. He remembered John suggested inquiring and not deducing from Molly.

 

Molly blushed and said, “I like Glee, and I know you’d hate it!” Even with the embarrassed blush on her cheeks, her eyes were shining brightly. “And what’s your favorite show on the telly? Other than the crap you watch with the paternity testing.”

 

Sherlock wracked his brain for a moment, before he finally decided on an answer, “Star Trek. I’ve always been fond of the show.” He chose not to give the further detail that the show had been his number one priority when he was growing up, other than pirates, honing his deduction skills, and bothering Mycroft.

 

“Oh really? I’ve never watched it.”

 

“I own the original series on DVD. We could watch it together?”

 

Molly smiled brightly. “I would like that.”

 

Sherlock was surprised when after their date she wanted to walk home. She didn’t live far from the restaurant, and Sherlock knew the appropriate thing to do would be to walk her to her flat. They walked in a surprisingly companionable silence all the way to her door.

 

When they reached her flat, Molly paused outside her door, keys in hand.

 

“Maybe Saturday night?” Sherlock blurted out suddenly, his eyes widening when he realized he’d had part of the conversation in his head. Molly’s brow furrowed in confusion and he backpedaled quickly. “We could have takeaway and watch an episode or two of Star Trek?”

 

Molly nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll text you the details,” Sherlock said, taking one step away from her.

 

“Okay,” Molly said, once again smiling, her eyes telling him that she was pleased. Sherlock in return felt pleased with his success on his second date. He was further delighted when Molly leaned up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his cheek. “I had a good time tonight, Sherlock.”

 

“I did too,” he responded automatically, surprised when his mouth felt dry. _Where did all my saliva go?_

 

“Well, I’ll see you on Saturday, if not before.” She unlocked her door and opened it. “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight.” He stood outside her flat for a few moments after she closed the door before he spun on his heel and grinned triumphantly. It was nice enough outside that he walked home instead of taking a cab.

 

\-----

 

John didn’t have to ask whether or not his second date went better than the first when Sherlock entered the flat, still grinning brilliantly with his hands in his pockets. “You kissed her then?” John asked, closing his laptop. He had been blogging about his most recent case with Sherlock.

 

“She kissed me,” Sherlock said, only half paying attention to John. “on the cheek.” And he let out what could only be deemed a _giggle_ before traipsing to his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

 

\-----

 

“John, can I ask you a personal question?”

 

“You have never prompted me before asking a personal question.” John was standing, turning to face Sherlock who somehow snuck into his room and perched himself on the edge of his bed. He rolled his eyes and continued to button his crisp white shirt. “What?”

 

“Is sex mandatory on a third date? I only ask because Molly is coming over this evening and I don’t think—no, I know that I’m not—” He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed that he was struggling with what he wanted to say. After a second he said, “The article I read insisted that it was an expectation that commonly occurs between two individuals on a third date.”

 

John thought for a moment, trying to think of the best way to have this somewhat delicate conversation with Sherlock. “The great thing about sex,” John finally began, pulling a dark green jumper over his head. “Is that it should always be consensual. If you don’t want to have it then tell Molly and she will understand.”

 

There was silence for a moment, and John glanced at Sherlock. He was still sitting on his bed, but he looked more relieved than he had when he first saw him that morning. “And what did I tell you about that research you conducted? It’s rubbish. If you have questions, you can ask me. I’m a doctor and more importantly, your friend.”

 

“Thank you, John.” Sherlock said, standing up. He left John to finish getting ready for his shift at the surgery.

 

\-----

 

“I don’t want to have sex with you.”

 

The statement was unprompted and Sherlock’s mind was whizzing with so many thoughts about his third date with Molly Hooper that he sort of short circuited the connection between his mouth and brain. His eyes widened as he saw Molly flinch and then he felt his insides clench and twist tightly when he saw the hint of tears shining in her eyes, pain evident. “Oh,” she whispered, chewing on her bottom lip.

 

He obviously made a grievous error with his last comment, and Sherlock tripped over himself to correct it, hating the look in her eyes. “I mean, tonight. Not tonight. Eventually. I think having sex would be a proper progression in our relationship, but right now I’m not ready.” After another moment of silence, he covered his eyes, feeling a blush cover his cheeks. He felt completely out of his element. “I’ve ruined it and you’ve only been here for ten minutes.”

 

“Slow is good, Sherlock. I wasn’t expecting sex this evening.” Sherlock looked up and he could see from Molly’s expression that she had forgiven his unintentional insulting mistake. She smiled kindly at him and nibbled on her eggroll. “And nothing has been ruined.”

 

They finished their meal without incident and soon found themselves sitting in front of the television. For the first episode of Star Trek, Sherlock was sitting in his chair while Molly was curled up in the corner of the couch. By the time the credits were rolling at the end of the episode, Sherlock gathered the remotes and migrated to the other end of the couch.

 

“Can we watch one more?”

 

\-----

 

John returned to Baker Street early Sunday morning from Mary’s, expecting the flat to be quiet and Sherlock in his bedroom. Instead, he walked in on Sherlock gently disentangling himself from a sleeping Molly Hooper on the couch. Sherlock’s eyes widened when he realized that someone else was in the flat.

 

And then he blushed.

 

John just smirked before making his way to his bedroom, not surprised when he heard Sherlock following him.

 

“We fell asleep watching Star Trek around three this morning,” he said as soon as John’s bedroom door was closed and the risk of being overheard was taken away.

 

John chuckled. “You watched Star Trek for your third date?”

 

“What? There’s nothing wrong with that!” he said incredulously. “We had a good time. It was a good third date.”

 

“Good?” John asked, taking great joy in seeing his usually stoic flatmate blushing. He teased him for a few more moments, before he smiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

 

Sherlock grumbled beneath his breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do I do when she wakes up?”

 

“Offer her breakfast. But I highly doubt we have edible food in the cupboards.” John opened up his dresser to look for jeans. “Go out for breakfast instead.” As he gathered his clothes, he added, “And I’m spending the day with Mary before she goes on that trip with her students for the next few days.”

 

“Okay. Breakfast.” John was sure Sherlock had just ignored his latest statement. He just smiled and shook his head, stepping around his flatmate.

 

“I’m taking a quick shower. You should probably go back to the couch, just so she doesn’t wake up alone. That’s only polite.”

 

\-----

 

With less than four hours of sleep under his belt and a full stomach from breakfast, Sherlock felt drowsy. But he still walked Molly to her door, telling the cabbie to wait for him.

 

“I had a ridiculously great time,” Molly said, grinning so brightly that Sherlock knew she couldn’t be lying. “I don’t know why I’ve spent this much of my life not being a fan of Star Trek. We should watch more of it together.”

 

“That is agreeable,” Sherlock said, hands clasped behind his back, doing his best impersonation of Spock. He reveled in Molly’s giggle and the flush that covered her cheeks. If he could spend the rest of his life doing this for Molly, he wouldn’t object. (He filed away the sudden thought to his Mind Palace, certain that it needed dissected before being put away.)

 

After saying goodbye and receiving another gentle kiss on the cheek, Sherlock returned to the cab. He waved to Molly as it pulled it away from the sidewalk and she waved back before stepping into her flat.

 

Sherlock kept his gaze on her building until it became completely impossible. Then he turned around in his seat. He pressed his head against the window and closed his eyes sleepily, already thinking of ideas for his fourth date with Molly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
